Page 30 of Near Pemberley

The effect was instantaneous.

Bingley turned around so quickly that he nearly overturned a chair. “Miss Bennet! Jane Bennet from Longbourn?”

Georgiana looked up at once. Miss Bingley became perfectly still.

At the mention of Jane Bennet, Darcy’s expression altered almost imperceptibly, and for one brief moment Elizabeth’s accusations at Hunsford returned to him with uncomfortable clarity. “It was Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” said Darcy, with studied composure. “In Lambton.”

“Oh. Still… When? How?” cried Bingley. “Good God! Is she in the neighbourhood? Is her sister with her?”

“Miss Elizabeth has been at Lambton for several days with her aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. Her family… indeed, I neglected to ask.”

“Then perhaps Miss Bennet is nearby too.”

“I do not know.”

“You did not ask?”

“No. I think they would have mentioned it.”

“Darcy, you become astonishingly impractical in moments of excitement.” Bingley’s disappointment was visible, but he shook himself. “And you never sent for me? Darcy, this is abominable. Why was I not informed instantly?”

The faintest shadow of a smile touched Darcy’s expression. “The meeting was unexpected.”

“Will they remain long?”

“One more day. I have invited them to spend the day here tomorrow.”

Bingley looked delighted. “Excellent! What a marvellous accident.”

Miss Bingley recovered herself sufficiently to say, with an affectation of indifference which deceived nobody entirely, “Miss Eliza Bennet at Pemberley? How very… unexpected.”

Darcy’s eyes moved towards her calmly. “I hope,” he replied, “that the society of my guests will not prove disagreeable to anyone present.”

The civility of the words only rendered the reproof more complete.

Miss Bingley coloured slightly. “Oh! Certainly not. Miss Bennet is always very entertaining.”

Darcy made no reply.

But though outwardly composed, inwardly his thoughts had already escaped them all once more.

Tomorrow.

Elizabeth Bennet would come to Pemberley.

And for the first time since leaving Hunsford, the prospect of tomorrow no longer appeared entirely without hope.

***

Darcy awoke earlier than was his habit.

For some moments after opening his eyes, he lay still beneath the pale light of morning with that peculiar sensation of expectation which belongs less to certainty than to hope. The recollection returned gradually – Lambton, Elizabeth, her acceptance of his invitation – and with it a restlessness of mind which rendered further sleep impossible.

She was coming to Pemberley.

The thought, even now, retained something almost unreal in it.

He rose sooner than usual and dressed with more care than he would willingly have acknowledged, though not, perhaps, with greater success; for twice his valet was obliged to repeat some question to which Darcy had given no attention whatever.